The Queen Cities
by blinnn
Summary: Is it just a coincidence that both Toronto and Buffalo have been nicknamed 'The Queen City? Dasey. From one Queen City to another, with... love? Rated T for language.
1. With Love

**Author's Note:** So, I've been slacking. I know that the dasey revival is extremely important, but i've started school at ITT-tech and it's kind of taking up all of my time and energy. Yet at the same time, I find myself more motivated to write. I don't know what it is. Whatever.

I honestly just started writing this while in class one day, and decided to go with it. I had no idea what was going to happen, but now I think I've developed an idea of where to take it.  
I hope you all enjoy it!

**NOTICE: This may be a bit confusing! The page breaks (long lines) indicate the break settings AND points of view!! It's all in first person, but it's two different people narrating! I hope it's not too confusing! :-/ If it is, TELL ME!**

Disclaimer: I don't own Life with Derek OR the Buffalo Sabres.

Summary: Is it just a coincidence that both Toronto _and _Buffalo have been nicknamed 'The Queen City'?_ Dasey. _From one Queen City to another, with... love?_

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**The Queen Cities**

A Life with Derek Fanfiction

**Chapter One: With Love**

I can't do it. I can't.  
Isn't this what I've always wanted?  
Life _away_ from him?  
And now that it's happened, I just... I'd give anything for my old life.

Ten years.  
Ten friggen years I've known him.  
Four years living with him and four more years living within ten minutes of him.

Now I'm in Toronto and he's in the 'States playing hockey for the Buffalo Sabres.  
_(Is it just a coincidence that both Toronto and Buffalo have been nicknamed 'The Queen City'?)_  
I haven't seen him in a little over two years, with the exception of his games, which I've watched on T.V.  
I haven't missed one yet.  
I never used to like hockey. In fact, I _hated_ it. But I also thought I _hated_ him and that turned out to be completely and utterly _false_.

I don't know what to do! My life is spiraling downwards. I'm not happy and he _is_...  
Which in turn makes me hurt even more.

Not only am I hurting, but I can't talk to anyone about it...  
No one would understand... I'm not supposed to miss him this much. I'm not supposed to see him on television and wish he weren't so far away.  
I'm supposed to feel _bad_ for the people of Buffalo because they have to deal with his shenanigans, not feel _envious_ of them because they're so much closer to him than I am.

I see articles about him and have to pool all of my self-control to _not _read them.

And do you know how hard it is to be one of the only people in the whole of Toronto that is _not_ a Maple Leaf's fan? I may as well be committing treason!

It's torture. I watch the crowd go wild as he scores goal after goal and I see the fans with his name plastered on their backs and on signs. I see foolish girls with marriage proposals that will go unnoticed by him, but will always be fresh in my mind, 'Venture with me, Venturi?'; 'Marry Me, Triple D?' I laugh at first but my heart aches because I know that one day he _will_ marry. It may not be one of the fans I see in the crowd, but some poor, ill-advised girl will become Mrs. Derek Venturi.

The worst of it is that I'll be invited to the wedding. It'll be mandatory that I not only _go_, but that I also _help_ with the 'joyous occasion'.  
I try not to think about it, though; for obvious reasons.

It's bad. Really bad. And I just... know... that if I don't see him_ soon_, I'm going to go crazy. But at the same time, if I do see him..._ in person_, something _crazier _could happen...

* * *

I'm going insane and no one knows it.  
I play each game as if it were my last, which is why we always end up winning.

Everyone is envious of my 'skills' and my 'luxurious life' in general, but they wouldn't be so happy living my life if they knew the truth. I'm living in _hell _because the one person I care about most, the one person that I that couldn't stand for the longest time, is miles away and I haven't talked to her in over two years.

I never in a million years thought I'd miss her; at least not as much as I actually do.

The worst of it is, I have no none to talk to about it. I can't turn to any of my friends from back home, they wouldn't understand. And my new friends, well... I just have this new life and they know hardly anything about the old one.

Plus they're all so superficial (a word I learned from _her,_ of course), so they'd probably just ask if she's hot and say that I must have done the 'horizontal mambo' with her _a lot_ to make me miss any girl this much.

It doesn't help that I'm in the public's eye. 90% of the time. It wouldn't be very becoming of me as a 'celebrity' to blurt out my deepest feelings. It would definitely make it's way to the tabloids and become this huge scandal, 'Mystery Girl Holds Hockey Stud's Heart' or some shit like that.

Anyways, it's not like she feels the same way at all.  
All the time I've known her, we've despised each other.

Don't fix something that's not broken, I guess...

I just need to stay away from her for as long as possible.  
She probably doesn't even miss me.

* * *

"Derek Venturi?" I looked up to see a woman with blonde hair and a curvy figure who had obviously been the one trying to identify me.

The woman took my upward glance in her direction as an answer, "Dr. Miller will see you now; upstairs, first door on the right." She smiled and left the room.

I followed her directions and entered a room with a large leather couch, a desk with slightly balding, white haired man sitting behind it, and one bookshelf, that only had about five books on it.

"Mr. Venturi, please, take a seat." He nodded to the couch. I did as he said. "May I call you, Derek? Or do you prefer Mr. Venturi?" He smiled.

"Derek is fine." I said shortly. The place was making me so uncomfortable.

The man scribbled something on the paper in front of him.

"So, Derek. As this is your first time seeing me, I'd like to do a little evaluation," he started, pulling a sheet of paper out of a filing cabinet attached to his desk, "Please, take your time reading this list, and check off things that have happened to you in the past three months." He said, handing me the paper on a clipboard with a pen attached.

I scanned the paper and internally rolled my eyes. I knew this was a stupid idea.  
I quickly went through and did as the doctor said as he scribbled more on his notepad. As I handed the paper back to him, he looked me over; probably assessing my mannerisms or some shit.

It took him a minute to 'calculate' my 'score' but soon he spoke, "According to this stress evaluation, you have come to see me at the right time. If you would have waited longer, you may have reached a breaking point and that could have lead you to make irrational decisions to which you would not regard the consequences."

I listened intently, but skeptically; I mean, I knew I was stressed, but close to a breaking point? Really? I don't think so.

"I'd like to start by asking, what made you come here in the first place, Derek?" The doctor folded his hands in front of him on his desk.

I cleared my throat, "Well, there is something that's been on my mind lately, and there's no one that I can really talk to about it. So I though, 'Hey! Why not go to someone who gets paid to listen?'"

He nodded, "That's what I am here for, but I assure you, the monetary reward is not what keeps me in this profession." He paused, jotting something down, "Tell me, Derek; what's on your mind?"

I took a deep breath, looked at the man, and came out with it, "I think I'm in love with my step-sister."

* * *

"I'm telling you, there is _no_ way I'm going anywhere near that place."

"Come _on_, Casey! It's only two hours away! Plus, you _love_ hockey! Heck, you love the team we're playing against." I recognized the distaste at the end of my friend's comment.

I rolled my eyes, "Yes. Which is exactly why it's very hard for me to say no right now, but it just has to be a no. I'm sorry, Mills." Milly is my best friend and colleague. We own our very own dance studio in Toronto; it took us a while but we made it happen.

"Ca-sey!" She whined, "This is a chance of a lifetime! It's the play-offs!"

I sighed, "But how much fun would we really have? I mean, you'd be there to root for the 'Leafs and I'd be there for the Sabres. We'd probably end up tearing each others' heads off." I reasoned.

"You honestly think that we'd do that to each other?" She responded.

"No." I paused and she smiled, "But I'm still not going."

She stomped her foot, "Whyyyyy!?" she held the last letter as if she were two years old again and asking her mother why she couldn't have that pony that she wanted _oh, so much_.

"I have my reasons. I just can't go, okay? Find someone else."

Case closed.

* * *

"How'd lunch with your mom go?" I looked up to see my teammate, the _other_ Derek on the team, Derek Roy standing on the other side of the table. We were at a benefit dinner for the team. It kind of felt like High School all over again.

"What?" I responded.

"You said you were having lunch with your mom, today, D. How'd it go?" I remembered then that I had lied and told the team I was having lunch with my mom, who I rarely got to see(that being the the only truth of the situation). There was no way I could tell them I went to see a shrink.

"Oh, right. Fine." Truth was, I was in a haze. After my appointment with Dr. Miller, I was ready to crawl into a hole forever. Wasn't this therapy thing supposed to make you feel _better_ about your life?

"Don't go into _too_ much detail, now." His sarcasm was evident.

I laughed. "We just caught up. Nothing special. What d'ya want me to say, Roy?" I paused before quickly holding one hand to my chest and outstretched my other arm as if to grab an apple from a tree, "We enjoyed our time together, laughing and telling tales of joyous occasions that we've missed over the months we had not spoken!" I ranted in a mock-Shakespearean manner.

We laughed together and he tousled my hair a bit, "Tell your mom I said 'hey' next time she's here." He winked, jokingly.

I grimaced, "Shut up, man."

* * *

"I can't believe you've tricked me into coming with you."

"I hardly _tricked_ you." Milly argued with me as she drove.

I gave her a look.

"Okay, so I tricked you." She relented, "But you're the one who wouldn't tell me your real reason for not wanting to come with me. I thought we were friends! You know you can tell me anything!"

I let out a laugh that came out a little more bitter than I expected. It's just, if she knew the real reason, she would be the one denying we ever interacted. Well, maybe i'm embellishing... but who's to say?

She shot me a hurt expression before reverting her attention back to the road.

"I didn't mean it like that, Mills. You know you're my best friend. There's just _one_ thing that I can't tell you, and you shouldn't take offense to it, really. It's not just you I can't tell. I can't tell anyone." I looked out the window at the signs of the QEW as they passed.

Milly stayed silent for a while, she always did know when to give it a rest, and that time was obviously now.

After about an hour and a half of mostly silence, and some mindless chatter, Milly pulled off the highway and into a service station, "I'm just going to stop and use the washroom, Cay(her way of shortening my name. Apparently, she couldn't be bothered with the 's'). Do you need to 'freshen up'?"

I shook my head and she shrugged before strutting her way into the building.

I turned the radio station and, _of course,_ the first thing I heard was _his_ voice.

"-best and hopefully we'll play a well enough game."

"Oh, don't be modest, Venturi, you know you'll win, don't you?"

He laughed, _oh_, how I missed that laugh. I really should've changed the station, but my hands wouldn't move.

"Well, I mean. I don't know. It could go either way. We've got to just stick together and hope that our best is good enough."

Hockey players (and possibly _all _professional athletes) say the same thing when being interviewed pre-game, post-game or during intermission. They all end up saying that they're doing their best and they hope that it'll get them through. It's all relative and they do it to seem down to earth, but really, on the inside they've got to be telling themselves that they'll win. If they're seriously thinking that the game is 'up in the air' they'll lose for sure.

"Well, good luck tonight, and thanks for talking to us!"

"Thanks for having me."

"Derek Venturi of the Buffalo Sabres, everyone! Game five of the play-offs against the Toronto Maple Leafs at 7:30pm eastern! Thanks for listening, and now, here's the newest from Lady Gaga! She just never stops, does she?"

The music started just as Milly opened the door to get back into the car.

"Anything good on?" She smiled.

"Nah, nothing too interesting." I lied.

She took my lie as an answer and drove back onto the QEW. We were almost to the border, and from there? About twenty minutes to the HSBC arena, 'Home of the Buffalo Sabres'.

From one Queen City to another, with... love?

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**AN: **By the way, Derek Roy is a real Buffalo Sabre. He's my favorite! :) Number Nine! Which incidentally is NOT my favorite number. haha


	2. Cookie Tossing

**Author's Note:** I'm glad to hear such great feedback on this new story! :D I promise I'll respond to your reviews. I have never been very good at that, but I know that responding to you guys is important! :)

Anyways!

Enjoy chapter two!

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**The Queen Cities**

A Life with Derek Fanfiction

**Chapter Two: Cookie Tossing**

I felt nauseous.

Which actually had me smiling because I know that he was feeling the exact same way.

Even after all his years of playing hockey, I knew he _still _got sick before each game. That always made me laugh.

As Milly rounded another corner in the parking ramp, I felt the knot in my stomach grow. It was 6 o'clock. The game started at 7:30. We knew, after various Leafs' games together, to get to the rink early. It gets very crowded, _very_ fast.

The HSBC arena was within walking distance now and we got out of the car in unison. We made our way down Washington Street, the view of the arena in front of us, I felt a bit of excitement, but not enough to overpower the fear I was already feeling.

We were donned in our respective teams' jerseys with hooded sweatshirts underneath. We weren't stupid; the rink gets super cold; especially down by the ice, which is where our seats were.

I had to admit, if this were any _other_ game, I'd be pretty darn content with our seats. We were behind the net, but not directly, just off to the side a bit, which meant that we'd be able to see the action right in front of us, but without the goalie blocking the view... basically, they were top-choice seats. Not to mention they were _free_. Milly won them from one of those local radio give-a-ways. She always wins those types of things. Her luck is unbelievable... mine too, in the worst way possible, of course.

But, as you know... this _wasn't_ just a regular game. This was a game in which being _close_ to the players -one in particular- was _not_ ideal. So... as I said... my luck... _un_believable.

A few people that were walking around us looked like they wanted to mess with Milly because of her Toronto attire, but when they noticed my number 27 Buffalo jersey with the "Venturi" branded across the back, they decided against it. He was the city's favorite player aside from the goalie, Ryan Miller.

We made it to the entrance and had our purses checked for security purposes. Of course, by this point I was about to collapse from how fast my heart was beating.

"Do you want to go to the shop before we get to our seats?" Milly gestured to the right of us. I glanced over to see the "Sabres Store" where you could buy merchandise and memorabilia. Right at the entrance of the shop stood a substantially large cardboard cut-out of _him_.

I looked to the ground in front of me, "No, thank you though." I answered her and she must have finally picked up on my obvious pain.

"Are you okay? You look like you're about to throw up!" Milly questioned.

"I'm fine." I lied. I also tried to give her a smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.

"My ass." She rolled her eyes, taking me aside to a quiet(ish) part of the lobby, "What's the matter, Cay?"

"It's nothing, really."

She glared at me, "Stop lying, Missy. It's not good on you."

I sighed, "It's just... I _told_ you it was a bad ideal me coming here with you. I begged you to give it a rest, and he I am, about to cry because I can't breathe correctly and my heart is racing and my lunch is about to resurface."

"Casey." She hardly _ever_ used my full name. Only when she wanted me to do something for her (like when she was whining to me about coming to this godforsaken game), or when she was _really_ serious (like right now). I looked at her, surprised and teary-eyed, "What is this about? You _know_ you can tell me anything. And I mean that. You could tell me you killed a man in Buffalo and you've got a warrant out for your arrest and I _still_ wouldn't judge you." She smiled.

I laughed and wiped my eyes. I don't know what was keeping me from telling her; she _was_ my best friend and all that jazz.

I took a deep breath and came out with, "I'm in love with Derek Venturi."

A pause.

Then laughter. A full-blown laugh attack brought to you by the girl who was supposed to be non-judgmental. Remember her? Yeah, me either.

I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for her to stop.

She noticed my current state of anger and calmed her laughter, "Cay; I mean, come on. I _know_ you like Venturi. You _are_ wearing his jersey." She pointed out. I sighed.

"It's more complicated than that. It's not just some 'celebrity crush', Mills. I'm literally _in love_ with the man."

"Don't you think that's a bit of an overstatement?"

"You're right," I paused, "'Man' would imply that he is mature. He's far from a man." I corrected myself, ignoring the eye-roll it gained from my friend.

"I'm sorry to say this, honey... but you don't even know this guy... how can you be so sure that you're in love with him?"

I let out a bitter laugh, "I only _wish_ I didn't know him. I wish I had never met him... then none of this would be a problem!" I was rambling to myself now and Milly just looked confused.

"So... you met him, and fell in love with him?" She didn't understand. The problem is she'd probably understand even _less_ after I explained it.

"Milly..." I started, gaining eye contact, "What is my step-father's name?"

She thought for a second, "George."

I nodded, "Mhm... and his last name?"

This took her longer, and when she finally got the answer she didn't utter it, "Are they related?"

Poor, poor girl.

"Derek is his son. My step-brother."

* * *

I walked out of the stall in the locker room to find the coach waiting for me, "Venturi!"

"Yeah, coach?"

"You done puking, yet?" We walked together to find the rest of the team at the lockers.

I laughed, "I think so."

"Good." He increased his volume to address the whole team, "Alright, everyone! Big game, tonight! Let's get out there and show them what a real team is made out of!"

* * *

I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that in the same building as I was in at that very moment, the man I've been pining over, the man that probably has long since forgotten that I even exist, despite the fact that he'll _undoubtedly_ see me again someday, was living his own life. He was talking to his teammates and his coach, Lindy Ruff (What kind of name is Lindy, anyway?), he was joking around or seriously discussing tonight's strategies. He was about to suit up, and head out to see the few hundreds that had already shown themselves at the arena. He was living his life, free and happy... and here I was in the stands, the girl who means basically nothing to him, going to _his_ game, wearing _his_ jersey, rooting for _his_ team. What has the world come to?

"You okay?" Milly asked, noticing my leg jumping rapidly, and the fact that all of my nails had been bitten off 'till there was nothing left to bite. Milly had explained to me that she didn't see anything wrong with the fact that I was apparently in love with my step-brother. Her words were, _"It's totally sexy in that 'forbidden fruit' sort of way."_

I concluded that she was just as insane as I was.

"Huh? Yeah... fine." I answered absent-mindedly, "Totally chill."

She laughed, "Don't _worry_, Cay. Everything is going to be fine!"

I looked at her, fire in my eyes, "How can you say that? Everything will _not_ be fine because this was just one, huge, giant mistake!"

She rolled her eyes, "No it wasn't. Look; this is a sign! I mean, you had _no_ intention of coming here tonight, yet somehow you ended up here! That's fate." She finished by popping a bite-sized soft pretzel in her mouth.

"No. It's not _'fate'_; it's misfortune. If you hadn't tricked me into coming with you, I wouldn't be here right now, and I wouldnt be worried to death that my idiot step-brother will spot me and puke right on the spot." I told her, angrily.

"A-ha! Yes, but he only 'tosses his cookies' when he's nervous, so you could take that as a compliment, if you really think about it." She wiggled her eyebrows, and I just winced in disgust.

"Vomit is not a form of flattery, Mills."

"Not unless you're Derek Venturi, hon."

I rolled my eyes. It was then I noticed a sudden eruption of cheers. The players emerged onto the ice.

* * *

I waved at the crowed quickly before practicing some shots at the goalie. It was great to hear the roar of the crowd. If there was any leftover nervousness from the locker room, it always disappeared when I heard the cheering from the fans.

I made a few shots, and Miller blocked a few. It was a team effort, after all. It's always good to know you're on the same level as your teammates. We're all striving for the same thing. As I skated away from the net, puck-less, I couldn't help but think back to my appointment with Dr. Miller (No relation to the goalie, of course).

_"I think I'm in love with my step-sister."_

_I was ready for this long spiel about how it was wrong for me to feel the way that I do about her and that I should just get over it and find someone else. Instead all I got was the balding man's attention._

_"I see. How old were you when you met your step-sister, Derek?"_

_"Fifteen." I answered._

_"Well, I can tell you, that it is perfectly normal for you to have feelings for this young woman. You met her when you were a teenager, and no one should expect you to see her as a real sister. Please, elaborate, if you will, about why you feel you're in love with..." He wanted a name._

_"Casey. Casey McDonald."_

_"Yes. Why do you think you feel the way you do? What is it about Casey that makes you feel that you love her?"_

_I laughed. Talk about why I love Casey? No. Just because I started seeing a shrink means I'm a sap._

_"I'm not really a 'talk about my feelings' kind of guy." I answered._

_"That's quite alright. When you're ready, then, I'll be listening."_

It felt kind of pointless. Like, what the hell? I'm supposed to feel better after something like that, but instead all I feel is this overwhelming need to... _talk_. I know that I should probably set up another appointment with Dr. Miller; I know that it would be beneficial to see him again... it's just so... not me. Although, I guess I never expected to fall for my step-sister, either.

* * *

I felt claustrophobic, and the only person around me was Milly.

The people around us hadn't arrived yet, and I was very thankful of that fact. It gave me a better chance to run out if I needed.

And I needed. I made a move to get up but Milly grabbed my arm, "Where you going?!"

"Away."

"Ohhh, no you're not! Sit back down, woman!" She pulled me back into my chair.

"Milly! This is going to kill me. He's literally _right there_. I can't do this!"

"Cay, he's not even going to see you. You're just paranoid!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

I harrumphed and slumped down in my chair, defeated.

* * *

The game was finally getting under way. Two minutes in, no one had scored yet, though many had tried. I was chasing a guy on the opposition who had the puck down the ice when finally I slammed him against the boards.

That's when it happened. I spotted a pair of big, blue eyes; widened at the site in front of them. I stood shocked as the guy on the other team got away from me. The whistle blew and Coach was calling me over to the bench. I was going to get an earful from him, but I didn't care because the image was fresh in my mind. Casey McDonald's blue eyes, staring right back into mine.

* * *

"'Not going to see me', my _ass_!" I hardly ever swear, so when I do, it's for a reason.

Milly was outside of the bathroom stall that I was currently finding solace in.

"Cay, come on. Did you see the way his eyes lit up when he saw you?! If he didn't care about you, he wouldn't have given you a second glance. Instead, he gave up trying to get the puck to _stare_ into your _eyes_." She finished wistfully.

I ignored her obvious insanity, "Yeah, and now everyone is going to hate me for ruining the game! I'm not going back out there."

"Oh, yes you are!" She yelled as she kicked the stall door so hard that it flung open.

"Holy-!" I gasped, looking at my smirking best friend; she always had been very strong, "What if I had been using the toilet?"

"I don't give two shits, girl! Now let's go." She took my arm and pulled me violently back to our seats.

The game was already back in play, but Derek wasn't on the ice.

* * *

**AN:** I hope you liked this chapter! hehe. Next one will be up soon! I'll just give you all a chance to read this one! :)


	3. Inflicting Pain

The coach benched me for my lack of concentration... which I guess was for the best because my priority right now was to try and find Casey again.

I noticed she wasn't in the place I originally spotted her, but after a minute I saw her return to her seat, accompanied by someone who was apparently a leafs' fan.

The number on Casey's jersey matched mine and I smiled involuntarily.

She was watching the players move around on the ice and her eyes gave away how much she was enjoying the action. It was insane, what could change in two years. Casey actually _enjoying_ hockey? That was not something that I can say I had expected to happen.

And I _definitely_ didn't expect to see her in Buffalo at one of _my _games wearing _my _jersey.

* * *

I scanned the ice, but finally noticed that Derek was on the bench. My fault. His coach had undoubtedly been mad about his obvious change in focus. I didn't even want to be there, let alone be the reason the Sabres _lost_ the game.

After a few minutes, I got lost in the excitement of the game and didn't even notice that Derek was back in.

I could practically _hear _Rick Jeanneret (the official commentator of the Buffalo Sabres) giving the play-by-play as Derek skated at top speed through all of the opposing offense-men and fired a shot at the Leafs' goalie, who obviously had not been trained to handle the likes of Derek Venturi, because he let it slip by him and into the net for the first goal of the game.

I couldn't help myself. I jumped up and cheered at the top of my lungs. Something I did in the privacy of my own home _all_ the time.

In that moment, I forgot all about earlier when Derek and I had shared a 'moment' as Milly had described it.

With seven seconds left in the first period, the action was mostly around people were leaving to use the bathroom or get snacks.

Milly and I stayed in our seats and she was eying the Leaf players as they left the rink into the locker rooms.

"Me thinks you're getting into the game, missy." Milly wiggled her eyebrows.

I glared at her, "Me thinks you're stupid." I folded my arms across my chest.

She just laughed.

"Fine." I gave in as her cackles grew louder and more obnoxious. I wanted to punch her in the face. "I'm getting into the game. I mean, of _course_ I am. My favorite player just scored the opening goal!"

"Your favorite player, and... love of your life?" She added.

I was yet again tempted to cause physical harm to my best friend, "I'm going to kill you, you know."

"Oh, calm down, Cay. You know I'm just pullin' your hair."

* * *

"You could have cost us a goal, you know?" The coach was laying the law.

"Yes, coach. I'm sorry."

"What on Earth were you staring at that was so god-damn important that you had to direct _all _of your attention to it?" He didn't give time to answer, "I mean, I know you're a hit with the women, but keep that shit _out_ of the rink. You know better than that, Venturi."

I just nodded.

"Great goal, by the way."

I smiled; he always did end with the good.

I couldn't bring myself to care about the fact that I had messed up. After knowing Casey was in the arena, I found myself needing to do _better_. I played my heart out, and I didn't plan on stopping.

I just wanted to find Casey. I wanted to know why she was here; what she was doing; why she was wearing my jersey; what she was up to nowadays... everything.

But all of that would have to wait.

* * *

The end score was 8 to 3, and of course, the Sabres won.

I was following Milly because she said she had scoped out the layout of the arena online and knew a shortcut to avoid the mobs of people leaving simultaneously.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" I asked, we seemed to be going the opposite way of where we had entered the arena. I was just worried we'd get lost.

"Positive. Just through this door!" She announced and opened the door to see a group of men, sweaty and rambunctious, entering the same hallway from a different door.

I spotted one right away and the color drained from my face.

"Casey?"

"Derek."

There was that overwhelming feeling of wanting to inflict pain upon Milly, again!

* * *

AN: I am glad to see all of the amazing feedback on this story! I'm so happy to see you all enjoy what I've got so far! I've got more written. The next chapter should be up tomorrow! :D Sorry for the wait!


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